JAMES hearing the news on
his death-bed that his Queen had given birth to a Princess at Linlithgow
Palace, exclaimed : u It cam wi’ a lass, and it will gang wi’ a lass.”
The infant was seven days old when her father died, and one can but pity
the little Queen thus commencing her life amidst well-nigh hopeless
turbulence and disorder. Despite the great difficulties of the
situation, the Queen-Mother, who took up her residence in the Castle
with the royal babe, handled the reins of the regency with skill and
judgment. Although herself an ardent Catholic, by her liberal
concessions she was able at once to secure the full approbation of the
Protestant party.
Henry the Eighth in the
hour of his death, embittered with disappointment by the refusal of
Scotland to fulfil a treaty of marriage with the infant Queen and young
Edward, urged the councillors of the little Prince to lose no time in
waging war with Scotland. In the beginning of September 1544 the Earl of
Hertford landed at Wardie at the head of an immense army, and the Fiery
Cross was instantly sent through Scotland summoning all men spiritual or
temporal between the ages of sixty and sixteen to repair to the city of
Edinburgh.
The English earl
demanded, as the condition of peace, the hand of the little Queen for
Edward, subject to the stipulation that she should remain within
Scotland until she was of a fit age for marriage. This, however, the
Scottish nobles peremptorily refused. Lord Huntly made the Earl an offer
to decide the quarrel by single combat, but this challenge was declined,
and the Earl immediately advanced toward Edinburgh, where the English
set fire to the town, but were met with defeat when attempting to take
the Castle, which had been thoroughly repaired by the Earl of Arran. For
four days the English thundered with their cannon before the fortress,
not only suffering heavy loss from the defenders, but the Scots under
Lord Stanehouse made a sortie from the Castle and recaptured some of the
guns lost at Flodden. The English then retired, leaving behind them the
smouldering, blackened ruins of Edinburgh and seven miles of country
round the city.
Three years later there
was still another invasion } the Scots and English fought a decisive
battle at Pinkie on September 10, 1547, and the Scots were defeated—a
day known long after as c Black Saturday.’ So far from bringing about a
union of the two countries, this had unfortunately the opposite result
and strengthened the old ties with France, toward which the Queen-Regent
turned her eyes for a marriage between the young Queen and the Dauphin.
It was suggested that Mary should be sent across the channel to be
educated, and also for security against the many dangers which
threatened in her native country, and this proposal received the full
sanction of the Scottish Parliament.
The death of Edward VI of
England, which took place in 1553, removed the possibility of further
troubles on account of an English matrimonial alliance. The little Queen
Mary was scarcely six years old when, in the height of winter, she
crossed the Channel in 1548. The voyage was made in a sailing-boat not
much larger than a fishing-smack, and as she sailed down the Clyde from
Dumbarton she just escaped the English fleet, which had already reached
the Forth on its mission to intercept her.
Mary of Guise continued
her difficult task of ruling Scotland amidst all the difficulties
created by the quarrelsome nobles on the one hand, and the reformers on
the other. She managed to steer more or less a neutral course between
the parties until her death, which, after a long illness, took place on
June 10, 1560, in an apartment of the royal lodging, close to the
present half-moon battery. She had summoned to her death-bed a number of
her opponents with whom she spoke in terms of kindness, urged them to be
loyal and true to the young Queen, and asked touchingly the forgiveness
of any past disputes in which she might have been in error. The rites of
burial were refused her, being a Catholic, and the body lay in the
Castle encased in lead for about four months, when it was conveyed to
Rheims, where it was received by her sister, who was prioress of a
convent.
Mary Stuart was now ruler
of Scotland, but in her absence the Protestant faith was established by
Act of Parliament, and on the news being intimated to her she refused to
recognize the procedure. She had married Francis II, who died in the
same year as her mother, and she was now induced to return to her native
kingdom, after thirteen years’ absence, to ascend a throne and undertake
the government of a people who were hostile to her religion, which to
her was everything. Thus commenced a reign in which we shall find much
to pity, whether we deplore her actions or blame others for their wily
self-seeking. Destiny had brought her forth into a world where she was
involved, young and inexperienced, in all the turmoil of a reformation,
in the intrigues of plotting traitors who persuaded her with flatteries
and unwise counsels j and in the end, on a preposterous charge of
conspiring to seize the English Crown, she was to be dastardly put to
death by the English Queen.
There was every chance
that if this unfortunate monarch, with her refinement of education, her
kindly disposition, and her great personal charm, had lived in more
peaceful and happier times she would have left behind her a successful
record.
Queen Mary arrived at
Leith in August 1561, and was indebted for her safe passage partly to a
favourable wind and partly to a dense fog, under cover of which she was
able to avoid the English fleet. She landed in circumstances which did
not divert her from the melancholy consequent upon her departure from
her beloved France, for the day was dull and gloomy. Knox says that “in
the memory of man, that day of the year, was never seen a more dolorous
face of the heaven, than was at her arrival, which two days after did so
continue \ for besides the surface wet, and corruption of the air, the
mist was so thick and so dark, that scarce might any man espy another
the length of two pair of buttis—the sun was not seen to shine two days
before nor two days after.”
Her arrival was at least
ten days earlier than had been anticipated, and few preparations had
been made for the reception; but all classes hastened to express their
joy and to demonstrate their loyalty, “At the sound of the cannons which
the galleys shot, the multitude being advertised, happy was he and she
that first might have the presence of the Queen.” Accustomed to the
splendour of the French court, Mary was greatly affected by the
miserable arrangements which had been made for her conveyance to the
palace. As there were no carriages in Scotland she was obliged to
proceed on a shaggy pony, the royal stud having been captured by the
English. Her eyes filled with tears as she observed to her attendants:
"These are not like the appointments to which I have been accustomed }
but it behoves me to arm myself with patience.” But her reception,
though rude, was sincere and cordial} her youth and beauty at once
engaged the affections of a warm-hearted, generous people, and her
feelings of vexation gave way to livelier emotions.
A few days later, Mary
made her state progress through Edinburgh to the Castle with great pomp,
as is chronicled in the Diurnal of Occurrents. “Nothing was neglected
which could express the duty and affection of the citizens towards their
sovereign. Her Highness,” continues the ancient record, “ departed from
Holyrood with her train, and rode by the long street on the north side
of the burgh, till she came to the foot of the Castle Hill, where a gate
[more than likely a triumphal arch] had been erected for her to pass
under, accompanied by the most part of the nobles of Scotland. She then
rode up the bank to the Castle, where she sat down to the State banquet
at noon. On her return after the function, the artillery boomed a royal
salute from the batteries, and descending the Castle Hill she was met by
sixteen of the most honourable men of the town, clad in velvet gowns and
bonnets, who carried aloft a canopy of fine velvet lined with red
taffeta, fringed with gold and silk, under which the Queen rode back to
Holyrood.”
The next important event
in the life of the Queen, which however did not concern Edinburgh
Castle, was the marriage to her cousin, Lord Darnley, on July 29, 1565,
at Stirling Castle, an alliance which unfortunately was to terminate so
unhappily. We next find her at the Castle after the return from
Haddington, whither she had fled with her friendly nobles to escape the
hand of the assassin at Holyrood, and where, in the midst of her
anxieties and griefs, she had sought the security of the ancient
fortress for the safe delivery of the expected heir to the Crown. Here
she received a messenger who was sent by the King and Queen-Mother of
France with a congratulatory message on her escape from the recent
peril. In the train of the French ambassador came Joseph Rizzio, whom
Mary appointed her secretary, an office left vacant by the murder of his
brother David at Holyrood. This was an imprudent step, but was perhaps
to be excused on account of the difficulty in finding one amongst her
courtiers in whom she could truly confide.
Her resentment toward
Darnley, who had played her false in many things and, beyond all, in
conniving at the murder of Rizzio, considerably abated as the time of
her confinement drew near \ she also pacified her nobles, who had long
been at deadly feud with one another, and prevailed upon them to meet
amicably at a banquet which she gave in the old Banqueting Hall to
celebrate their reconciliation. But poor Mary seems to have been
suffering from the apprehension of another attempt upon her life, and in
consequence made out her will, of which one copy was sent to France, a
second was given into the keeping of her Privy Council, and a third she
kept herself. The day before the birth of her son she wrote a letter to
Elizabeth in her own handwriting announcing the event, but leaving a
blank to be filled in either with “son” or “daughter,” as it might
please God to grant unto her. The birth of James VI took place on
Wednesday, June 19, 1566. It was a happy birth for the whole island, but
proved unfortunate for the Queen. The welcome tidings were announced by
the firing of the Castle guns from the batteries in close proximity to
the royal apartments. The same afternoon Darnley paid a visit to the
Queen, and expressed a desire to see the young Prince. “My lord,” said
Mary, “God has given you and me a son whose paternity is of none but
you,” whereupon Darnley coloured as he stooped and kissed the child.
Mary, taking the child in her arms, went on, “My lord, here I protest to
God as I shall answer to Him at the great day of judgment, this is our
son and no other man’s son; he is indeed so much your son that I only
fear I will be the worse for him hereafter ”; then turning to Sir
William Stanley, Darnley’s principal attendant, added, “This is the son
who I hope will first unite the two kingdoms of Scotland and England.”
“Why, Madam,” said Sir William, “shall he succeed before your Majesty
and his father?” “Alas!” replied Mary, “his father has broken to me.”
Upon these words Darnley, who had stood near, said, “Sweet Madam, is
this your promise that you made, to forget and forgive all?” “I have
forgiven all,” answered
Mary, "but will never forget. What F'audenside’s [he was one of the
murderers] pistol had shot? What would have become of him and me both,
and what estate would you have been in? God only knows, but we may
suspect.” “Madam,” replied Darnley, “these things are all past.” "Then,”
said the Queen, "let them go.” There were great rejoicings throughout
Scotland on the birth of the heir to the Crown. The General Assembly of
the Church at the same time met and arranged to send Spotswood, the
Superintendent of Lothian, to congratulate the Queen, and to request her
to permit her son to be baptized and brought up in the Protestant faith.
Mary received the representatives very graciously, but was silent and
only smiled at the expression of his brethren’s desire. The child was
brought into the room to be shown to the divine, who took it in his arms
and fell upon his knees and uttered a prayer on its behalf; at its
conclusion he playfully asked the babe to say u Amen,” and some little
cooing murmur, it is said, escaped the lips of the infant. Mary was very
pleased, and “ever after called the superintendent her ‘Amen.’ The young
Prince did the same when he was old enough to understand the story, and
whilst he lived did respect and reverence him as his spiritual father.”
The bedchamber in which tradition says the interesting and important
event took place is the small inner room of two in the south-east corner
of the ground floor of the royal palace, but there is much evidence that
runs counter to this tradition. The upper part of the panelling and the
ceiling are as old as the time of James V. On the panels of the ceiling
are the letters I.R. and M.R. surmounted by a crown, and on the wall at
the end opposite the window are the royal arms of Scotland and the
inscription :
Lord Jesu Chrtst, that
Crounit was with thornse Preserve the Birth, quhais Badgie1 heir is
borne, And send Hir Sonee2 succefsione to ^'eigne still Lang in this T^ealme,
if that it be Thy will, AIs Grant, O Lord, quhat ever of Hir pro seed,
Be to Thy Qlorie, Honer and Prais, sobied.
There are records of the
tapestries with which the room was hung, and these show the taste which
Queen Mary displayed in all her residences. The tapestries, which were
of gilded leather, portrayed the Judgment of Paris and 'The Triumph of
Virtuey but there were others of various devices on green velvet,
cloth-of-gold, and brocaded taffeta, and four recording the hunting of
the unicorn. The chairs—of which one was rescued from a sale of canteen
furniture and still remains—had hio-h backs and were carved with the
crown and cipher. The date of the birth, "19 June. 1566,’ is painted on
the panelling of the north and south walls of the room. An old but
untrustworthy story has it that the young Prince was lowered secretly
from the window in a basket to the Queen’s adherents, to be taken away
and baptized in their faith.
Below Queen Mary’s room
there are vaulted dungeons which are said till lately to have retained
the staple of an iron chain to which many a prisoner was secured in
olden times ; but no date or even history of these massive foundations
can be authenticated, though they certainly belong to a very remote
period. There are other dungeons below the Banqueting Hall, in two
tiers, lighted through small loopholes secured by iron bars, where the
French prisoners were secured during the Peninsular War ; forty slept in
one vault and, until recently, one could still see the wooden framework
from which they slung their hammocks.
A curious and somewhat
remarkable discovery was made in a wall on the west front of the royal
rooms in the year 1830. The wall on being struck was found to be hollow;
to satisfy curiosity it was opened, when a cavity was found to exist and
in it a small wooden box containing the remains of an infant. The box
was of great antiquity and much decayed ; the remains of the child were
wrapped in a thickly woven cloth resembling leather, besides a richly
embroidered silk covering with two initials worked upon it, one of which
clearly was marked "I.’ Most of the remains were restored to the curious
little cavity, and the wall was built up again. Daniel Wilson in his
Memorials of Edinburgh says : “It were vain now to attempt a solution of
this mysterious discovery, though it may furnish the novelist with
material on which to found a thrilling romance.”
To come back to the story
of Mary and her associations with the Castle: the birth of a Prince had
little effect on the debauched life of Darnley, who continued his
licentious ways to the great grief of his Queen. In the meantime the
infant James had been christened at Stirling Castle with unusual
magnificence. Elizabeth, who had consented to stand godmother to her
young heir, appointed the Countess of Argyle as her representative and
dispatched the Earl of Bedford, her ambassador, with a font of gold,
valued at upward of one thousand pounds, to be used at the ceremony. In
her instructions to Bedford, she desired him to express jocularly her
fear that as the font had been made as soon as she heard of the Prince’s
birth, he might now have outgrown it. “ If you find it so,” said she,
“you may observe that our good sister has only to keep it for the next
child, provided it be christened before it outo-row the font.”
It may be mentioned, to
show the abominable character of Darnley, that to give offence to his
consort he absented himself from the baptism of his son, although living
in the Castle at the time, thus proclaiming to all assembled the Queen’s
domestic unhappiness. Darnley was stricken down with smallpox and when
convalescent was taken to Kirk-o-Fields, a house which was within view
of the Castle windows, and now is the site of the University. Early one
February morning the house was blown up, and Lord Henry Darnley and his
page were found dead in the garden. It is believed that they were first
murdered and the house then blown up by Bothwell and his fellow
conspirators whilst Mary was at a masque ball at Holyrood.
Darnley’s body was taken
to Holyrood and buried in the Chapel. The Queen had her little room at
the Castle hung with black, and remained in privacy until after the
funeral. Elizabeth sent a letter of condolence by her cousin Killegrew,
and on his reception he found “the Queen’s Majesty in a dark chamber, so
that he could not see her face, but by her words she seemed very
doleful.”
Mary’s unhappy marriage
to Bothwell, of whom Kirkcaldy of Grange says she had become “shamefully
enamoured”—for Bothwell was nothing more or less than a freebooter—was
the crowning error of the unfortunate Queen’s reign, and took place on
May 15, 1567, at four o’clock in the morning. On the very evening of the
wedding Bothwell behaved toward her with coldness and indifference, and
she was heard to ask for a knife to stab herself, “or else,” said she,
"I shall drown myself.”
The confederate nobles
having themselves signed the bond not only sanctioning the Queen’s
marriage with Bothwell but declaring it to be for the interests of
Scotland, found it impossible suddenly and at once to disclaim their own
act. Nevertheless Morton, Argyle, Lethington, and Huntly now protested
against the marriage and the conduct of Bothwell, and we find the
confederates now resolved on taking the decided step of attempting to
seize the persons of Mary and her husband. Apprised of their schemes and
unprepared for resistance, Mary had recourse to flight, and Bothwell
fled with her to the Castle of Borthwick, about ten miles from
Edinburgh, and thence to Dunbar Castle. From here they went to meet the
nobles who were confederated against Bothwell. The meeting took place at
Carberry, and when Bothwell perceived that his case was hopeless, and
that his followers were deserting him, he mounted his horse and fled
with a few attendants back to Dunbar, and quitted the kingdom for ever.
Mary placed herself in the hands of the confederates, led by Kirkcaldy
of Grange, to whom she offered her hand, which he kissed, and taking
hold of her horse’s bridle he conducted her to the camp of his
associates, where she was received with grim respect by the leaders and
outspoken insult by the soldiers. At seven o’clock on the same evening
of this eventful day the unhappy Queen made her reentrance into
Edinburgh, riding between Earl Morton and the Earl of Atholl, and in the
most deplorable condition, her hair dishevelled, her dress soiled with
travel, her face disfigured with dust and tears, and so fatigued that
she could hardly sit on her saddle, been brought by a route which
compelled her to gaze upon the ruin of Kirk-o-Field House, the scene of
Darnley’s murder, which must have been most harrowing. The crowd greeted
her with yells and jeers; and at the Lord Provost’s house, she rested
for the night. Next morning after a council at Holyrood she was taken to
Lochleven Castle, were she was kept in close confinement until her
romantic escape. Mary had already signed the necessary papers abdicating
the Crown in favour of her infant son, who was proclaimed at the Cross
of Edinburgh on July 27, 1567, and preparations were now made for the
immediate coronation of the young Prince at Stirling Castle.
The Coronation procession
of the infant King moved from the sister castle to the High Church,
known later as the West Kirk. The Earl of Athol bore the crown, the Earl
of Morton the sceptre, and the Earl of Glencairn the sword. The infant,
only fourteen months old, was carried in the arms of the Earl of Mar.
The ceremony lasted from two till five in the afternoon; John Knox
preached the sermon; the Bishop of Orkney performed the anointing ; the
crown was held over the little King’s head by the Earl of Mar; and the
infant hands were made to touch the sword and sceptre. At the conclusion
of what must have been to the poor child a very tedious ceremony, the
newly crowned King was carried back to the old fortress by the Earl of
Mar amid great rejoicing. At night bonfires were lighted all over the
country.
A month later the Earl of
Murray was proclaimed Regent with great solemnity. He ruled the countn
with a strong hand and to some extent restored peace amongst its people,
but his Regency did not last long, for he was cruelly assassinated at
Linlithgow on January 23, 1570, by the Duke of Hamilton, whilst on his
way to Edinburgh from Stirling. He was succeeded in the Regency by the
Earl of Lennox, later by Mar, and then by the Earl of Morton.
Meantime the Castle was
held by Sir William Kirkcaldy of Grange, who was still a staunch
supporter of Queen Mary; during this unsettled period he seized the
opportunity of strengthening his position, and laid in stores which he
had seized at Leith, besides training soldiers.
Queen Elizabeth, bent on
subduing Mary’s supporters, sent two skilful engineers to examine the
defences of Edinburgh Castle—their last stronghold—and they reported
that with a sufficient battering-train the place might be taken in
twenty days. Elizabeth resolved that the attempt should be made ; Sir
William Drury, the Marshal of Berwick, was chosen to conduct the
enterprise, and his force, consisting of five hundred hagbutters1 and a
hundred and forty pikemen, disembarked at Leith with a considerable
train of artillery. The English were joined by the Regent’s troops,
seven hundred strong, and so they marched to Edinburgh to commence
preparations for the great siege. First, however, a summons to surrender
in the name of the Regent and the English general was sent to Kirkcaldy;
but although the supply of water and provisions was nearly exhausted he
refused to submit, and declared that he would hold the Castle until he
was buried beneath its ruins.
Trenches were dug,
artillery was placed on advantageous ground commanding the walls, and on
May 17, 1573, the guns of the besiegers opened fire, concentrating on
the principal bastion—the great tower built by King David. The shrieks
and cries of the women in the fortress could be heard distinctly in the
English lines, and after a furious cannonade of six days the south wall
of the great tower gave way and fell with its mass of men and guns, with
a crash like thunder, over the rock below, choking with its ruins the
passage to the outer gate. Next day the eastern , part of the tower, the
portcullis tower, and another bastion called Wallace’s Tower, shared the
same fate. The garrison now was in a state of desperation ; their
ammunition was exhausted, their water-supply was rendered impossible by
being choked with debris, and the greater part of the garrison were
lying hors de combat from want of food. The only water-supply left was
from St. Margaret’s Well, which however had already been poisoned by the
Regent’s troops, and only about forty men were left to man the guns.
Still Kirkcaldy did not lose heart, and it was not until the besiegers
prepared for a general assault that the brave soldier, seeing that
further resistance was useless, appeared on the ruins of the ramparts
with a white wand in his hand and obtained an armistice of two days. He
then gave up his sword to Drury on receiving his assurance that it was
to the Queen of England and not to the Regent of Scotland that he
surrendered; but he was treacherously delivered into the hands of his
enemy the Regent Morton, and despite the strenuous efforts of his
friends, who offered to purchase his pardon by becoming servants to the
house of Morton in a perpetual u bond of man-rent,” and also to pay to
the Regent the sum of two thousand pounds and an annuity of three
thousand marks, but to this offer the Regent turned a deaf ear. On
August 3, Sir William Kirkcaldy and his brother, and two others who were
accused of coining base money within the Castle, were taken to the Cross
of Edinburgh and there hanged and afterward decapitated, their heads
being fixed on the Castle walls. The brave Kirkcaldy died full of
penitence for his sins and professing unshaken attachment to the cause
of Mary Stuart.
John Knox on his deathbed
sent the following message to Kirkcaldy : uSay from me, that unless he
forsake that wicked course wherein he is entered, neither shall that
rock on which he confideth defend him, nor the carnal wisdom of that man
whom he counteth a demigod Lethington) make him help, but shamefully
shall he be pulled out of that nest, and his carcass hung before the
sun. The soul of that man is dear unto me, and, if it be possible, I
would fain have him to be saved.” These words of Knox, although they
produced but little impression upon Kirkcaldy at the time, were
afterwards remembered by him when he was compelled to surrender his
stronghold; and it is recorded that at the time of his execution he
acknowledged that Knox had spoken with something of prophetic truth, and
also that he had derived some consolation from his good wishes and
prayers.
On the wall of the Castle
close to the inner portcullis o-ate there is a memorial tablet to the
brave soldier who so nobly held the fortress in a last futile effort to
re-establish the Queen on the Throne. The fall of the Castle and the
death of Kirkcaldy of Grange was a death-blow to the unfortunate Queen’s
party in Scotland. |